


A Story About Pine Cliff

by kathrikat



Category: Welcome to Night Vale, Welcome to Pine Cliff - Fandom
Genre: Death, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Murder, Mystery, Other, Unreality mention, Violence, slight gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-26 21:23:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6256396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathrikat/pseuds/kathrikat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pine Cliff becomes tangled up in a story of revenge, murder, mystery, and the possibility of being left out forever. Will one of it's citizens be able to solve everything before time runs out? Probably not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Story About Pine Cliff

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is going to be 100k long. (Or more) It's going to feature as many characters from Night Vale and Desert Bluffs that I can manage. Please tell me if you don't see a character listed in the tags. PLEASE. Also, it mainly centers around Pine Cliff. As you know, so far we don't know ANYTHING about the place except that its a "ghost town". Which is why I have composed every fucking headcanon that I could find from tumblr and other sources. Every single character and hc mentioned in this story will be credited. A lot of the characters are also of my own creation. If there are your characters and you would like them removed, I would be glad to do so. After all the character is not mine and I can respect that. (Most I do not dwell on and are merely mentioned and have headcanons thrown on them if I dont have much info on them)
> 
> Throughout the story you will find little excerpts labelled "A Story About _____" I only did these for my own characters and for the ones that I got permission to write about. Other than that characters are only mentioned and talked about briefly. If you would like for me to do a "A Story About (your character here)" I will gladly do so, and the story will be linked in the story. Further, if you already have something written about the character, I would be glad to add it to the story if you'd like. However, I can only take so many of these characters. I hope you enjoy the read, and the story I have plotted for this.
> 
> (PS I would also appreciate some help for when I write the Radio Hosts' parts. If you're interested. Especially if your Radio Host is mentioned in here. Please come talk to me. You can do so here or IM me at kathrikat.tumblr.com)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Summary of Pine Cliff. Brought to reality thanks to you. Yes, _you._

_**Pine Cliff.** _

      This town was founded by a man. For reasons that I do not know, the town has kept him anonymous, but he was the Observer. He was the foundation of this place. He saw the two towns of Night Vale and Desert Bluffs and set up a shop. He saw the moon, and the sun, and he made Pine Cliff the stars. He watched his guidance fight one another, and soon found himself unsure of who he was. He set up a shop. A flower kiosk. And that was where he stayed until he died.  
  
  
Not that he was alone.  
  
  
     The creator of a world is never alone. No. It's people moved on without it's leader. They found new ones and created better stories of the past and the future. They based their lives not of the focus of a god, but on magic. They looked at their stars and pointed out the constellations, and their stories. They saw the dots and circles and arrows in the sky that only some ever see. They started fresh, between two places, on an entirely different plane. Most residents here are dead. Their draping, floating, translucent figures following anyone interesting enough, and the words they speak are true. For the most part.  
  
  
They are not to be trusted, dead or alive.  
  
  
Pine Cliff also gets many tourists. Children and people from all over stumble here.  
  
  
Once, there was a man who came and had appeared of Slavic origin, but was wearing an Indian head dress. The people in Pine Cliff did not tolerate racists, but recognition was necessary. He had seen these people's ways of magic and came to them, pleading.  
  
  
_"Please make me a real Apache tracker."_

  
No one but one man had listened to him, and the people of Pine Cliff shunned him.  
  
  
_"Anything else you want?"_ This man had asked the racist.  
  
  
_"Well, I've always wanted to speak Russian."_  
  
  
And it had been done.  
  
  
     Once, there was a young girl who was covered in dirt and wounds. She had been found wandering around asking everyone for their books. Little did she know that books were not to be trusted here. She said she was supposedly missing. That she was probably a fugitive. This new place did not care about fugitives, and so she stayed for a while.  
  
  
Whatever a 'while' is in a town where time is not linear.

  
They taught her new ways of seeing things, how to really open her eyes. And when she had had her fill of it, she had left. Tamika, she had called herself.

  
This place was never really a home to Tamika or the Apache Tracker, but it had helped, and that was all these people had ever really wanted to do. They had wanted to be recognized. This town, on it's own, was and still is, all it has.

  
**_Pine Cliff._ **

  
It's the name of a town most have forgotten.

  
     It's presence is little, so uneventful and quiet. A plain so tiny that even when you're standing still it's hard to hear. It's range is so compact, that a speck on a map doesn't even cover it. A town so small that taking a breath could fade it from existence. It's people are vast. It's creatures are vast. Everything from you to the grains of sand in the desert is vast and complex. Complexity and vastness come in many forms. You could spend an eternity trying to count them all, but no one has that kind of time. We are finite. We are mortal, and our lives are so fragile that they can escape us in the blink of an eye.

  
This town's existence is so insignificant, and yet it _is_. It some how came to be on the tiniest probability that someone would stop whatever they were doing and set up a shop.  
  
On the slim probability that someone would care at all.  
  
This town is a lot like us in that manner.

  
_**Pine Cliff.** _

  
     A town between the weirdness of two others, found over a mountain. One Mountain that people do or do not believe in. A town smack dab in the middle of Night Vale and Desert Bluffs. It's reality is not like theirs. It's specific point in the universe is set between the two of them, but it goes unnoticed, as it rests on another plane. A slit between existence and non corporeal form. It's journey and _being_ barely cracking through to Night Vale.

     It's a mix of the supernatural, aliens, and is full of people who live for the conspiracy (*cough* Steve Carlsberg *cough). That's why every once in a while the Pine Cliff Lizard Monitors take on the Night Vale Scorpions. They try to be apart of their world so badly, and try so hard to be, and yet at the end of the day they are shoved back into the small crack they have to call theirs, and that's exactly how it stays. It stays as home. No matter where the people of this unnecessary place are, they will always be able to find their way back, and that's how it always will be, _here_.

  
**_Pine Cliff._ **

  
When a town is mashed between two places, never able to call one their own, it is difficult to have a governed system. It is difficult to have any kind of system. Time is one of those hard systems. It works, but it's never linear. Some days it 2016, others it's 1876. On Fridays especially it seems to always be 2052. No one knows, or cares to know why time is so messed up, but a lot of people place bets that it's because of Night Vale.

  
_"That Night Vale."_   Some of the elders will croon, if they even are elders. Maybe that's just how they were born. And they will slap the money on the spiked table, their hands bleeding just enough to get their point across.

  
Others will say that it is Desert Buffs.

  
_"Oh no, it's Desert Bluffs."_ A young person will say, waving a sliced piece of meat with writing on it, or commonly known as a _check._

  
     It's Night Vale and Desert Bluffs doing all of this. It is neither of these towns. Both of these sentences are true.

  
Pine Cliff is ruled by a monarch who's last name is Pines. He claims that he is one of the descendants of the Observer, but everyone in Pine Cliff is. They all just accept it because they have nothing better to do.

  
**_Gabel Pines._ **

  
The plaque in the front of the castle reads. He used to have a sister, with a similar name. And Uncles that were great. He says that something apocalyptic had happened, and now this town remembers nothing, which is silly, the town has _great_ memory, but every time he's asked to dwell further on the matter, he lets out a long sigh and looks at a tattered journal that's gripped in his young (are those young?) hands and says nothing more. This town is nothing but a faint memory with so many mysteries shrouding it's name that not even the people remember where it truly came from. They just go off of the stories that have been passed down. Gabel understands this, in a way.

 

  
**A Story About Gabel Pines**

* * *

  
**_Is reigning hard to do?_ **

  
**He stares down at the crowd. Social. They are staring at him with their brows furrowed, like he had done something wrong. Their eyes are filled with fear. No, not fear, _concern._**  
  
_**"Why do you accuse us of such actions?"**_  
  
**They ponder out loud to him, like he could explain. Even if he did, they would forget, or not even bother to remember. Everyone in this town is naive and young. Younger than him.**  
  
**His hands grip tighter around the object in his hands. They stare at him. So they wish for him to dwell further? Of course they do. Nothing he does is ever enough for them. He was never enough before, and he is never enough now.**

  
**If a demon were to make a deal with him right now, he might not be one to back off so easily this time. What is a human to a demon? What is a demon to the divine? What is the divine to outsiders?**

  
**His eyes are glazed now. They are brimming with anger. No, not anger, _annoyance._**

  
_**"I've already told you."** _

  
**His young (if that young?) voice tells them. They are even more confused than before.**

  
**He flips through the journal, the writing is familiar. His mind draws blank to what the words mean exactly. His hands are shaking now. He knows, but he cannot remember.**

  
**He looks to the afraid, no, _concerned_ crowd and exhales for a long amount of time. It indicates everything he may have wanted to say. The crowd nods and leaves.**

  
**Gabel never asked to be king. Actually he did, but he never thought it would last this long. No one understands what he talks about. His mind isn't apart of whatever his world has become**.

  
_**A reign is as easy as training a newborn.** _  
  
_**Not at all.** _

* * *

 

But this story is not about Gabel. It is about Pine Cliff.

  
**_Pine Cliff._ **

  
     The way it works is not unlike Night Vale, and it is not unlike Desert Bluffs, and it is not unlike _our_ world. In it's beginning the Observer used laws from both towns, and from where he came from, _here_. This time here is not used as Pine Cliff. I'm talking about where you and I come from. _Here_. In Pine Cliff, guns do work and can kill people. Everyone carries one, and they're very old fashioned. If old fashioned can even be appiled when time is non linear.The use of bloodstones is forbidden. No one in Pine Cliff understands why Night Vale uses them or why Desert Bluffs banned them. Bloodstones are useful, just not for the residents of Pine Cliff.

  
Instead, they use moonstone.

  
This stone resonates much better with the stars, and can get a much better result. Also, they aren't as messy as blood stones. Can you imagine having to clean up blood after every single ritual? Ew.

 

Pine Cliff has police. Of course not in the way of Desert Bluffs or Night Vale do. Night Vale calls their police 'secret' but how is that the case if everyone knows about them? In Desert Bluffs, they seem to have no crime ever, so why would they need police? They have security, because humans are rash and humiliating at times, but police?

  
_"What even are police?"_

  
The people of Desert Bluffs will ask, shaking their heads in unison.

  
_"I don't even think that's a word."_

  
Someone in the back will say as the others nod in unison. There's a lot of unity in Desert Bluffs.

  
In Pine Cliff, their police, doesn't exist. The police uphold the law. These are both true.

  
The agents (police) of Pine Cliff are never around, so no one actually knows if they are real. And then some dumbass, like the Relentless Man will go and break the law like, breaking three dishes in a row, and no one will see him for the next couple of days.

  
The police uphold the law.

  
They are associated with the physics of space and magic, and the laws of space and magic, and anyone who breaks those laws are taken. Not for long. Most of the time they are just poofed out of existence for a while. Nothing bad really happens. Unless you break more than one law in one day.

  
Don't ever break more than one law in one day.

  
These agents, are supposedly made from the gelatinous void themselves and have specks of stars and galaxies in their eyes, bodies, and clothing. Their badges shine like the place they were created from and they are beautiful. Of course the people of Pine Cliff don't actually know what the police look like, it's all just based on speculation.

  
The people in Pine Cliff are always told that the police are out of town. Always else where, like Night Vale, or Desert Bluffs, or a desert otherworld. Or on special days, they were told by someone that the police were in Hell. Only on good days though.

  
Of course, no one in Pine Cliff knows who or what this 'someone' is, only that they are to do as told when their deep baritone voice emanates from the interconnected speakers that everyone has in their homes or dwellings.

  
**_Pine Cliff._**

  
The area of Pine Cliff is one that cannot be explained with words.

  
_"That's definitely an area."_ Most people will say, pointing their jagged, sharp fingers at the barren desert wasteland. _"I have quite literally no words to describe it, but darn if it isn't there."_ Most others will say.

  
People suppose that if they had to describe it, they would say something like ghost town, quiet, uneventful, or abandoned. Most can tell you that isn't true. Most that are from Pine Cliff, anyway.

  
Pine Cliff's nature isn't exactly that interesting either. It has the usual cacti that hang around the houses or dwellings. You know, the way they spy on your every move and thought, calculating your past, future and present from each touch and word that you speak. Words mean nothing to them of course, but they have meaning to you, and that's all that really matters, isn't it?

  
Sometimes they like to tell you vague yet menacing truths and lies about the world. Facts and statistics, lies and conspiracies. Of course, this world relies on conspiracies and statistics, so not much has been changed there.

  
It has Waterfalls. Their sand cascades down in a sweeping motion straight down and outward toward town, where it then takes their prey. Sometimes it's adults, sometimes it's dogs. Children are never taken.

  
There are trees.

  
Pine that are used for spells, or scent. Redwoods that tower high above anyone of 'normal' size. Cacti Trees, Sand Trees. So many trees, one could count them for an eternity.

  
There are also special trees.

  
These 'special' trees are rarely seen. Their branches bleed a fair amount. Enough to maybe create a blood shelter. Sometimes not enough to create a blood shelter. It depends on the age, the belief of aging, and the belief that time exists, or is linear. In Pine Cliff, most believe in neither.The residents also tend to use the trees as helpful resources such as building and paper, only of course when they aren't wreaking havoc over the town or being superior to us in other ways.  
Residents' houses are closer together in town and spread out more on the edges, whatever is really considered an 'edge' as there isn't really any boundaries that anyone knows of. Their houses are made of several items.

  
Trees, bugs, limbs, _blood._

  
The usual things that can be found at any grocery store.

  
People's dwellings usually house three people or less. They are small and are used as places to stay for people who are traveling or do not like much company.

  
     The colors that are associated with this long lost place, are that of the stars. Teal, blue, aqua. It reflected the darkness of their town quite well. These colors have meaning. They are shrouded and soaked in the emotion of sadness, and to most that would definitely be the correct thing to call Pine Cliff. A sad place, with sad people, and a sad history. But Pine Cliffians didn't see themselves that way. They saw themselves better. And that was their downfall most of the time.

  
These people are very kind and generous, they are low and unnecessary. They are high and mighty. They are better. Sentences are only words, and words are only made up by things that weren't even supposed to be created. How is that for fact?

  
**_Pine Cliff._ **

  
     These people were brought up on magic. Spells, rituals, all of that kind of thing. No god exists where they are from, so what would be the point in worshiping one? Why worship something that isn't even there at all? Everyone has a familiar. Some have cats, some have dragons, or small lizards. There are toads, which always get in the way with their ginormous spiked feet and poisonous breath. 

 

     Someone that is well known and recognized in the magic community is **Tasia Sulfur**. She is a scoutmaster for a coven of little witches, and trains them on the daily in survival based charms and potions, how to build shrines, phases of the moon, equinoxes and solstices, various spirits of the fauna and how to both choose and operate their broomsticks. Her parents, two elderly witches who live in deep in the pine, run a vital potion shop. Without Tasia, and her parents, Pine Cliff most definitely wouldn't be the same. Or at least, not as organized.

  
     Some high level witches and wizards have interns, but most of the time those are just rumors.  
Everyone knows that interns don't really exist, only that they are simply ghosts from a world they long to be a part of again.

     Pine Cliff has a radio station. It's run by the one Ember Flask, who doesn't really know who she is anymore. Some days he's a man, some day's she's neither. A lot of those days she's both, but most day's she's a woman. Strong, independent. A voice like rocky road, and a love life that isn't ever stable. The news has only ever been her life, as far as she can remember. Maybe that's how it'll always be for her. Maybe one day it will never be this way for her. Who knows.

**A Story About Ember Flask**

* * *

**_G o._ **

  
**Her voice is reading the news, her mind is else where. The paper in front of her is now crinkled with sweaty anxiety. She swallows. Hard. It's louder than the beating and banging in her chest. Her listeners are on the edge of their seats. Her next move is crucial.**

  
**She sputters into the microphone. Genia is in the room with her. Genia is also the voice of Pine Cliff. So are Lily and Kathie. Why limit the news to only one?**  
**Ember continues to shake. How does she break this news? Everyone around her is falling into a spiral of joy and love and here she is, stuck in the studio. Going no where forward, and no where backward. Sitting and quaking in the humble present. She supposes the world has turned against her, that this life is no longer hers.**

  
_**"Lars Leavengood h-has won the Eternal Rock Golf Course again."** _

  
**That isn't what she wanted to say, but it's true. The tower in front of her wobbles as her hands rest back onto the table. If it crumbles, she loses.**

  
_**"I don't think I mentioned this, listeners, but the Relentless Man appeared in the studio today."** _

  
**She gulps, trying to hold her hand steady.**

  
_**"And he has brought-"** _  
**Her piece clinks on the table, her turn now over. The game unfinished until he moves again.**

  
_**"J e n g a."** _

  
**She lets out the word with all of her emotion. Relief is spread throughout her entire body as she can continue her work with a little less stress right now.**

  
**The popular game of Jenga is illegal in Pine Cliff. How the Relentless Man got one wasn't the least bit surprising, but going after the radio host sure was. He had came to her all bright clothed and made a bet with her. That weird accent seeping through the studio door.**

  
**The rules he had told her, were simple. She loses, she disappears forever. She wins, she gets to keep her life. She only agreed because he wouldn't stop scraping his nails against the chalkboard she had behind her when she protested. Now she was stuck in this mess. Genia, Lily and Kathie were watching through the studio window.**

  
_**"I'm afraid that if I lose you'll never hear my voice again."** _

  
**Ember wasn't afraid of death. She practically worked with it living in Pine Cliff and all. She was afraid she'd disappear without ever loving. She looked at herself in the mirror. She wasn't as pretty as she used to be. The world had moved on since then.**

  
**As she sat back, her body jerked involuntary at the loud crash. The Jenga board had crumbled, pieces flying everywhere. She swallowed her relief.**

  
_**"Dear listeners, I think we know who has won."** _

  
**The Relentless Man huffs, and leaves. The pieces doing the same.**

  
**S t a y.**

* * *

 

  
  
  
The radio itself, is broadcast through walkmans, as is custom and produces a much more visual way of news. Holograms are shot through the walkman and outstretched in front of the person who is using it. Of course most the time people don't need this visual, as the news happens in the "present". Whatever that means for Pine Cliff.

  
  
**_Pine Cliff._ **

  
  
This town is based on morals from two different places.  
  
 Night Vale and Desert Bluffs.  
  
     As these people stumbled upon this town between two worlds, their cultures inspired their laws. These two places are this towns semi founding fathers, and they have no idea it exists. Well, some do. But who would believe someone on just what they see? How well can one trust memories when memories are merely experiences that our brain stores away? How can we know what we have experienced is real, if we were alone when it happened? If we were the only ones there, how well do we really know our reality? Are all of our memories fabricated? Are we really just alone in the universe? Maybe. Probably.

  
     The older people from these semi founding fathers like Kevin, and Cecil Palmer knew of it's existence, and always tried to help. They were like the father's of Pine Cliff and their advice was always well taken by the people who resided there.

  
Until those two forgot and ignored it like everyone else.

  
  
_**Pine Cliff.** _

  
  
The people of Pine Cliff are many.

  
As stated before, they have a king, Gabel Pines. He has never been a monarch before, except for now, where he is always a monarch. There will be a day when he is never a monarch.

  
They have Ember Flask, who runs the radio station. She is herself at all times, and she becomes others at all times. She is herself and other people and identities at all times.

  
They have the Relentless Man, who no one really knows as a person, just that he's relentless in what he does, whatever that may be. Somedays he's persistent on what people wear.

  
_"Wear this! You have to wear this!"_

  
The man would yell at passersby, holding his hands up to nothing.

  
_"What are trying to imply?"_

  
Most would yell back.

  
_"Nothing."_

  
The Relentless Man will or would respond. And it was true. One does not mean anything when you do not understand.

**A Story About the Relentless Man  
**

* * *

 

**His dark eyes watch the people as they walk by, or maybe float by.  Or maybe they are scampering, regret filling their veins as they are now late to work. Maybe they are skipping, a lover on the mind, or a spell fixated on the legs. Perhaps lumbering. The people of Pine Cliff are weird.**

  
**This isn't his thought process, however.**

  
**His mind is covered and laced in impulses. The kind that never leave and constantly force your hands at things you wish to not be doing. The kind that suddenly make you sputter up words that you've been meaning to say to someone or something for a long time. The kind that fill you with regret. This man is not filled with such emotions. He doesn't know what those are. He doesn't feel, not anymor** **e.**

  
**The hot, beating, wilting, sun hits his face as he sits at the outside dining area. He is leaned back, his legs resting on the sticky damp area of his table. He tilts his straw hat so his eyes are covered to anyone elses. They always have to be covered. No one knows why, he's pretty persistent about it, though.**

  
**A thought races inside his head, and he stands up suddenly. The flats of his shoes hit the sidewalk with surges of negativity that rose and disappeared into the humid forest air.**  
  
**He raises an old (is that old?) and fragile hand to his chest, clearing it as loud as he can. His voice rebounds throughout the area, a mix of obnoxious banter and the croak of a wise man.**  
  
  
_**"Hey."** _  
  
  
**The people around him groan in annoyance as they scrambled to get away. The Relentless Man was pretty relentless in what he does and usually causes at _least_ three people to be late to work in a day.**  
  
**Over and over he began speaking, holding on to a young woman's arm.**  
  
  
_**"Eat at Einar's! Eat at Einar's! Eat at Einar's!"** _

  
**Einar's is the local diner, and is where people usually go to disappear. The young girl, wanting the day to be over with already, continues to walk down the sidewalk, dragging the grown man with her. His voice persists reign and she flushes with embarrassment at the people who stare.**  
  
  
**The lump in her throat rises. _Anger._**  
  
  
_**"Fine. Fine!"** _

  
**She yelps at him, her voice more mellow, more yellow and all together not sounding like her normal tone. Her hand forces his away from her. He was never forceful when he touched, it was just annoying.**

  
**"I'll go!"**

  
**She drops her hands to her side in defeat, turning. The Relentless Man grins.**

  
**Her dark toned hands fling the diner's door open, and she is gone, to maybe never be seen again.**

  
**His smile in the meanwhile is continuous. His straw hat still covers half of his face. His suspenders are plucked in a happy jig. He lets out soft giggles and swings himself in the opposite direction of the building on the heel of his left foot.**

 

  
_**Goal accomplished.** _  
  
_**A day well spent.  
** _

* * *

_**  
**_      Pine Cliff's Eternal Rock Golf Course is located at the second highest cliff that over looks the foresrty. The entire course goes through the whole of Pine Cliff and changes rapidly. It even finds its way twisting through the Pine Cliff Community Radio Station, which can be very toubling to the radio hosts, as many people in Pine Cliff are horrible shots. During the broadcast many would and still do hear several plunks and 'ows' coming from the radio hosts as the rough, jagged golf balls go flying by. The radios hosts would even come out of their jobs with some lodged in the head.

  
Only two people have ever completed the entire course. The first, is Lars Leavengood, who lives out on the edge of tonw. So far he has kept the title of Town Golfer for about three years now.

  
The other, it Betty Sampson, who wasn't only the first person to make it out of the gold course alive and with all limbs still attached, but is also the founder of the Eternal Rock Golf Course. She likes to hand out the perfectly normal flyers that don't leak ectoplasm to the public to get the word out about her famous golf course, even though everyone already knows about it.  
  
Normally, admission to Betty Sampson is 5$ plus a sacrifice to a deity. Sometimes it's other things. She isn't picky.

  
  
Once a year, the people of Pine Cliff like to celecrate what's called the Blood Pine Festival. It consists of the trees bleeding more than usual, and the living and the dead collecting it. "Special" tree blood can be very useful. It can be used in spells and all that jazz. The people also spend this time embracing who they are, whether alive or dead. Some rumors say that even the interns come out at this time, but we all know that isn't true.

  
In town square, the people sing, dance, float, devour. All the kind of celebratory stuff. They all tell campfire stories and wildlife safety tips to each other in long lost and new languages. Some of the witches tell stories by pointing to the constellations and waving their hands wildly, casting spells to show words. It was kind of like charades but with images.

  
Lots of people just sign to one another.

  
There is quite a large deaf community in Pine Cliff who frequently go to the Blood Pine Festival and are always welcomed and appreciated in town.

  
This entire get together is coalesced by the local religious leaders Harry, Barry, Larry, and Jack. Or Jill. It depends on how he's feeling and what kind of vibes he's getting.  
Harry, is the most responsible one of the group. He can be a tad bit grumpy at times but he gets things done. Whether is be a sacrifice, legal papers, or getting lemon cakes just right for a bake sale. He's there.

  
Barry is okay. They are sad most of the time. Though no one knows why. Not even them. And that's okay. They can get things done, although not as quickly as others. And that's okay. They can be found moping and stuck to Harry's side. And that's okay. They are siblings after all. Barry is okay.

  
Larry is the least responsible. All he does is walk around with an "I don't give a fuck" attitude and messes things up all the time. Harry is usually the one to apologize for his actions, too.  The entire town still loves, him though.

  
The newest arrival is Jack, or Jill, and he is the happiest of the quartet. He jumps around and laughs. It's like a string of sunshine and puppies follows him around wherever he goes. Everyone adores him for that.

  
  
**A Story About Harry, Barry, and Jack (Or Jill)**

* * *

_**Religion?** _

  
**They are sitting around the table. They are praying. Imagine how a person prays.**  
**  
That's pretty good.**

**  
They all talk about the days that are yet to come. Harry's praying continues in his mind. He looks at his siblings and one stray companion.**

  
  
_**"So Jack-"** _

  
  
**_"Jill."_ She corrects. Harry stares ahead blankly, almost offended. Almost. He knows better than to argue. His manners are well kept. He understands. They all do.**

  
**"Jill. How was working with the kids today?" He stares up from his plate. Jill is talking with a smile as usual, but he doesn't hear. He is too busy staring at Barry, who is in a daze again.**

  
**That is okay.**

  
**Meanwhile, Larry is eyeing everyone as though they've done something wrong. Harry cannot help but feel as though he is unsafe, even in the presence of his siblings and a companion.**

  
**Larry speaks up.**

  
**"Which one of you traitors ate the last of my ice cream?"**

  
**Harry rolls his eyes.**

  
**"Why are you always like this?"**

  
**Larry gives him a look.**

  
**"Was it you? I bet it was you. You know, I don't get paid enough for this."**

  
**Barry shrinks back into their seat. They don't like when their siblings argue at dinner time. It was like when they were younger all over again.**

  
**Jill perks up.**

  
**"Why, we're technically priests! We don't get paid, silly!"**

  
**Harry and Larry glare at her, and then at each other. Jill's smile and radiance doesn't fade for a second.**

  
**Larry was not supposed to know about that.**

  
**The arguing is tenfold now.**

 

  
**It's everything. -H**  
**It's okay. -B**  
**It's a waste of time. -L**  
**It makes me happy. -J**

* * *

  
Of course, the Blood Pine Festival is not allowed to e talked about, so it's probably best that you forget everything that I've just told you.

 

As stated prior, lots of people find their way to Pine Cliff. Whether on purpose or accident, it all depends on the person, and of course a touch of serendipity.

  
Once, a stranger appeared in town. His crushed the soft green beneath his feet and his voice shook with a roar. A roar filled with trepidation. His stride was like ice cream sliding down the back your throat. Smooth, cold. His face was covered in scruff, his hair had been slick, and that chain that dangled around his neck held the cross of the man Jesus. It had glimmered in the teal forestry, proving where his beliefs lied.

  
He trampled through town, sending those that are not completely living to a place that not even Pine Cliff could follow. His trembling hands gripped their transparent heads as though he were touch by God himself - perhaps he had - and he did the unthinkable to the residents that were dead. That was only the half of it.

(A Story About the Stranger [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4216380))  
  
  
_Those_ kind of strangers really shouldn't come to these parts.

 

  
  
No one could forget about Old Man José who lives out by the old abandoned lumber company. The three demons that reside with him are not what you think

 

 

**A Story About Old Man José**

* * *

_**Malus?** _

  
  
**A black sky reigns over the house with ominous intention. It's razor sharp lighting crackles and hits the land like it is an old enemy. It is.**  
  
**The thunder rumbles and roars like a call from a world beyond. Like a God is trying to battle its way into this one.**  
  
**But Gods do not exist, and The Old Man smiles at this. What a peculiar thought that was, to think that a God could get here. Thoughts like that should be kept to houses and trees.**  
  
**His brittle fingers tap against his arm rest, and he croons an odd tune. One that not even the world has remembered. It has moved on since then.**  
  
**A black humanoid figure emerges from the darkness, only distinguishable from it because of its eyes. Glowing. A crimson that has been melted solidified and remelted. It pulsates with malice. Though that is not its intent. Yet.**  
  
**Upon seeing this, the Old Man does not flinch. He is not frightened. Fear is meaningless. Instead, he smiles. It is not cruel. It is not filled with malice. He smiles like he is seeing a friend for the first time in a long time. He is content.**

  
  
_**"Do you have it?"**_

  
  
**One of them, Eli, hisses to him. It is not hurtful, or rather, it is not meant to be. The old man knows this, and nods. His weak and tired eyes stay peaceful.**

  
  
_**"Hand it over then."**_

  
  
**Says the second, Eli. The words are harsh, but they cannot change that. A person may not change their physically form, a person can better themselves to look beautiful. _These demons are not people._**  
  
**The old man opens his jacket and fumbles for a key piece tucked into his pocket shirt, careful not to touch it. If human skin were to, it'd burn to the bone.**  
  
**You see, the demons would never hurt José. Technically speaking, they love him. Technically speaking José is in love with them. These are two different things, whether you want to believe it or not.**  
  
**Eli, the third one, snatches it away. It's elongated fingers looping around the end of it. They are giddy, laughing in ecstacy at their own ideas. The old man joins with them.**

  
  
**_"A pleasant crime for a pleasant story."_ The second one whispers, the statement barely audible.**

  
**_"Yes indeed."_ The third one replies. This story was not going to be pleasant at _all._**  
  
  
**Eli, the first one, stoops down from where he is floating and holds José's hand in his own semi-humanoid one. He grins, and it is filled with malice. That isn't the intention though, and the old man knows this.**

  
**_"You will get what you deserve."_ Says Eli. The demon's voice is straining, trying to be comforting.  lets go of José's hand like it is a poison, and turns to face the others. The statement sounds threatening, but it is not. It is justice. The old man looks at the three of them like they are all he has these days.**

  
**They are.**

  
**The demons that reside here, are not what you think.**

  
_**Et non malum.**_

* * *

  
Their lives together are wonder filled and quite odd, but it is sufficient for them they are loved by each other in two separate ways, and that in and of itself, is beautiful. Oddly comforting, and beautiful.  
  
  
It is sufficient enough, as is everything else in Pine Cliff.

 

  
**_Pine Cliff._ **

 

  
It's a world full of mystery, life, and death. It's a ghost town just on the edge of your peripheral. That's where it's existence lies. And if you turn too quickly, you just might miss it.

This is where Pine Cliff is just beginning. Everything to know about it lies here. Most of everything to know, anyway.

  
  
This has been a brief summary of Pine Cliff, brought up only because of you. Yes, _you._

  
Which brings us now to our second beginning. One that starts with shaky hands, and an absent mind. That starts all the way back to Einar's diner, with the Relentless Man, and a young woman who was forced to enter it.

  
This is where it starts.

  
And this is where it ends.

**Author's Note:**

> So there it is, the first chapter! I hope you all liked it and look forward to more! Kudos and bookmarks are appreciated, comments and feedback is even more so! 
> 
> I really hope that none of you mind that way that I have intertwined your headcanons and characters to create the Pine Cliff community, if not you can always tell me and I will change/alter or delete it completely.
> 
> (Also as for my OCs they are mostly just talked about in depth here. In the rest of the chapters they will only be mentioned and or talked to depending on what I decide to do for the rest of this story. It's still only vaguely plotted.)
> 
> Credit:
> 
> \- Eternal Rock Gold Course, Radio Host Lily brought by DBlezard  
> \- Blood Pine Festival, The Stranger brought by BlueParadox  
> \- Local religious leaders, quiet, uneventful, Radio Host Genia brought by welcometopinecliff.tumblr.com  
> \- "The Observer", Relentless Man, Ember Flask, Harry, Larry, Barry and Jack (Or Jill), and Old Man José, brought to you by Me  
> All other characters belong to Joseph Fink and Jeffery Cranor respectively.


End file.
